


Hallelujah

by GulJeri



Category: Deep Space Nine, G/B - Fandom, Garak/Bashir - Fandom, Garashir - Fandom, ds9 - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:43:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GulJeri/pseuds/GulJeri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about Garak and Julian's relationship inspired by the song "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen. </p><p>Refs to A Stitch In Time.<br/>Refs to Julian's spy holosuite program.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallelujah


    _Now I've heard there was a secret chord_
    _That David played, and it pleased the Lord_
    _But you don't really care for music, do you?_
    _It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth_
    _The minor fall, the major lift_
    _The baffled king composing Hallelujah_
    
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    
    _Your faith was strong but you needed proof_
    _You saw her bathing on the roof_
    _Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_
    _She tied you to a kitchen chair_
    _She broke your throne, and she cut your hair_
    _And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_
    
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    
    _Well baby I've been here before_
    _I've seen this room and I've walked this floor_
    _You know, I used to live alone before I knew you_
    _And I've seen your flag on the marble arch_
    _But love is not a victory march_
    _It's a cold and it's a lonely Hallelujah_
    
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    
    _Well there was a time when you let me know_
    _What's really going on below_
    _But now you never show that to me do you?_
    _But remember when I moved in you_
    _And the holy dove was moving too_
    _And every breath we drew is Hallelujah_
    
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    
    _I did my best, it wasn't much_
    _I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch_
    _I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you_
    _And even though it all went wrong_
    _I'll stand before the Lord of Song_
    _With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah_
    
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    
    _Well maybe there's a God above_
    _But all I've ever learned from love_
    _Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you_
    _And it's not a cry that you hear at night_
    _It's not somebody who's seen the light_
    _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_
    
    _-x-_  
    
    Trying to unwrap the enigma of Julian Bashir was one of the most challenging things that Elim Garak had ever embarked upon. A challenge was usually welcome, but in this case, he just wanted to pry that cellophane wrapper away and press his lips to the delicacy beneath. 
    
    But whomever had wrapped Julian Bashir had done so tightly. Though they traded jokes, flirtation, and conversation—ah the exquisite journey of their conversations—the precious jewel that Garak really wanted to get to was kept deep within. 
    
    Oh, how it hurt him to look into those eyes of gorgeous, breathtaking, jevonite. It was a stone that had been so glorious and rare that it had been nearly sacred to the ancient Hebitians and when Garak looked into those eyes he was opened to a world that few caught glimpse of and he understood how his ancestors must have felt as they trailed their fingers over glimmering veins that ran through the foundations of the earth. 
    
    How they must have shook with the discovery as Garak trembled inside upon each breathe, each blink, each flutter of the man's heartbeat that he could sense as surely as he had ever sensed his own. 
    
    But whatever tool his ancestors used to excavate their precious jewels lay out of Garak's reach. Confused as he tried, and tried yet again, and still to receive only that coy, boyish smile—he wanted to open it and fall in and be bathed in Julian Bashir.
    
    What would open the young man to him?
    
    Perhaps the treasure was not meant for Garak's hands. They were hands gently on fine, flimsy fabric; hands that could handle silks, and stitch the daintiest lace, and they could dance the minutest threads as though designed for the very act. But they were also rough hands; oh, they were hands dipped in blood, in pain, in anguish and shame.
    
    Such hands did not deserve to cradle a treasure as sacred as Julian Bashir.
    
    He doubted and put his love away to pine for it from afar. 
    
    Undeserving, said his mind, but his heart ached for something beautiful, and pure, and good.
    
    So the world decided to prove to Elim Garak that he couldn't leave such desires, couldn't wish them or weep them away, and couldn't tell that lie to himself above all others. 
    
    A trip to the bar to find his treasure taking leisure. A few slips of money that meant nothing to him and he was allowed in to approach his love unexpectedly. Just a silly flight of fantasy, his Julian pretending to be what Garak had once been, but with a glamor that was known only to the naive. 
    
    Julian on the roof of some foolish penthouse, ethereal beneath the moonlight, and Garak was stopped breathless as he slipped off garment, after garment. Black and white gathered on the stones leaving only skin; slender and sleek beneath the shadows. For a moment nothing seemed false—not even the stars on the ceiling—as Julian stepped into the warm water.
    
    Unable to contain himself any longer Garak rushed forward and enveloped his treasure. Mouths crashed with rising passions, breathes came in staccato, and he swore they could have made that water boil.
    
    A few words and the image disappeared leaving them in an empty room with only each other and their sounds—Julian pinned him against the wall and so dazzling were his eyes that Garak could not move. Brown hands grasped his wrists, slid down his body, breaking him inch by inch, forcing him to give in—forcing him to cry out!
     
    In Julian's arms Garak was a man undone. Oh, the power his treasure had over him—it thrilled him and it terrified him—and he wanted it more than he'd wanted a single thing before. He shivered in the pure delight of it and the man who spun everything so tightly around him, layer upon layer, let go and it all feel away leaving nothing but naked vulnerability.
    
    And Julian was so gentle with him once he had him there. He held him, and kissed him, and made love to him as if he deserved it.
    
    Garak had never been a man of religion but he felt like he'd been found by a god and he basked in his treasure when they were alone—he worshiped him and his cries rang out when he received a benediction. 
    The Bajorans had their temple, and Garak had his, and who was the tormentor and who was the tormented did not matter when Garak bowed his head at that altar.
    
    Walking through hallways where he had once felt like ice he now felt warm, for he wasn't quite alone any longer, and he wasn't quite as lost.  
    
    Above his door he had finally hung a flag of surrender and when he was with Julian behind that door Garak was his and only his. It was then that the lies fell--when Julian washed his pain away he didn't need them anymore. 
    
    It wasn't a victory it was defeat, but Garak welcomed it, even begged for it, as his fingers bit skin and he rose up against that chest and cried out! It was a broken sound but it felt right sometimes to broken by something so good.
    
    Reaching the pentacle there was but one thing left and it was coming down the other side. Oh, Garak tried to hold on, but the beautiful thing they had had shifted. The ground beneath his feet suddenly unsure, and Julian was drifting from him, and he couldn't reach far enough to make him stay.
    
    The distance was a knife but it felt like he deserved it when they past each other like shadows.
    
    Garak grabbed him once and close to begging, nearly pleading, but oh it had been unspeakable! Did his treasure not know that they had shook the heavens and moved the stars, when they'd joined and moved together? It was religious, and holy, and unbridled, and every breath had been the first and last.
    
    
    Garak could only imagine he hadn't done well enough. He hadn't deserved that treasure. Oh, how many times he thought of holding it again, his Julian, and how many times he thought of baring his heart? He even rushed to the door with the truth on his lips but he couldn't ring the chime and the words choked his throat. 
    
    Still if death met him that day—or any day to come—he would never look back on their time with sadness. He would fall on his knees and thank whatever existed on that ethereal plain for allowing him to touch an angel with his unholy hands.
    
    His thoughts drifted never far from his love, in the midst of it all, Garak longed for him always.
    
    The road ahead was brutal, it was desperate, and it was nearly suicide.
    
    He thought of Julian in the dust, in the tears, in the way Cardassia rose up once again as a cry that could never be truly silenced—as a heart that could never truly let go.
    
    Garak sat on a bench with a mask in his hand. A woman was leading the chant of his ancestors, circled back again, it was funny how things had a way of holding on—people to places, places to people, faith to souls, souls to faith, and the heart to things that both maimed and sustained it.
    
    Garak thought about the letter he'd sent, so many words in his head for so long, and finally the weight was off of his heart and out to the stars. Should Julian read it Garak would be here in this temple, the sound of his people, and their hearts, rising all around him and crying up to the sky where ashes had once blotted the sun. Now the sky was clear, and bright, and full of hope.
    
     Up to the blue he cried with the rest, a broken people who had gathered their pieces, and he thought of Julian and that salvation he had once found in the goodness of that flesh.
    
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_
    _Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

 

 


End file.
